


it's a game of give and take

by landfill_lady



Category: Psych
Genre: (thar be sex ahead matey), Established Relationship, M/M, Universe Alteration, always-a-couple AU, buyer beware: rating will go up, married au, some dialog taken from episodes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-06-27 04:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15677898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landfill_lady/pseuds/landfill_lady
Summary: psych ua: gus and shawn were married before the pilot. inspired bythistext post, by the lovelyM.





	1. 1986, santa barbara, ca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn and Henry play "How Many Hats".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recognizable dialog from s1e1 ("pilot"). i've tried to flesh this chapter out with more insight into shawn's internal monologue - but it is effectively the same flashback that starts the pilot, with a bit of added shus interaction. as the fic goes on, events and dialog should (hopefully!) begin to stray more from canon.
> 
> i'm sorry this chapter has so many short paragraphs - they look pretty ugly, but i tried to be true to grammatical conventions with my paragraph breaks! the writer's struggle is so real

It’s Saturday morning - by all rights, Shawn should be over at Gus’ house, lounging around in pajamas as they watch the cartoons.

Instead, he’s getting a headache from the cheesy music on the radio of the dinky little greasy spoon Henry’s dragged Shawn out to for lunch before his shift starts.

“Did you do your homework?” Henry asks gruffly from across the table, further breaking the silence.

Shawn nods impatiently. “Uh-huh.”

“Finish those beets?” Henry asks, arms crossed. 

Shawn barely restrains himself from rolling his eyes. Henry can  _ see  _ his empty plate, and Shawn isn’t sneaky enough to have pulled a fast one with the veggies.

“Yup,” he says distractedly, his eyes glued to the dessert tray on the counter. “Can I have the fudge cake?”

Gus will want a piece; he always does. It’s his agreed-upon compensation for listening to Shawn whine about training with Henry for hours after he’s dragged out for lunch.

“Close your eyes,” Henry commands.

“Dad, I don’t wanna–” Shawn starts petulantly. He’s already missed  _ Scooby-Doo -  _ at this rate, all the good TV will be over by the time Henry drops him off at home.

“Now.”

Shawn sighs, shaking his head theatricallyOnce it’s obvious that Henry is unmoved, he closes his eyes, pressing his hands to his temples to focus his memory.

“Which letter is out in the exit sign?” Shawn can hear the sound of shifting polyester which means Henry’s angled himself towards the sign.

“The x,” he says huffily.

“What color is the vinyl?”

Shawn feels his face scrunch in confusion. “What’s vinyl?”

“It’s the stuff these seats are covered in.”

“Purple.” It’s close enough to the truth – really, the seats are some deep, reddish-brown color Shawn doesn’t have a name for, striped crosswise in tan.

“Maroon. Close enough,” Henry says; Shawn can  _ feel  _ the condescension in his voice. “Manager’s name.”

“Who?” Shawn asks plaintively.

“She’s wearing a nametag. The woman standing at the front door when we first walked in. You saw her.”

Shawn’s mind flashes back to the tired-looking brunette at the front of the room, briefly sidetracked by the fluorescent  _ Coffee Shop  _ sign hung over the jukebox. “Marie,” he says finally, faintly proud. “Can I have the cake now?”

Henry pauses for a long moment; Shawn can feel the shift and creak of him moving forward in his seat. “How many hats?”

Henry is undeterred. “You want a piece of cake? How many hats are in the room?” Shawn frowns, thinking.

“Does a beanie count?”

“What do you think?” Shawn’s frown deepens.

“Three.” 

“You didn’t describe ‘em.”

“That’s not fair,” Shawn protests.

“Time’s almost up, Shawn,” Henry says warningly. 

Shawn can hear the waitress behind his father - only a booth or two away from them, and closing fast.

He points his hand into the crowd and starts to speak, hearing the polyester  _ swish _  which means Henry’s head is following his finger.

“One has a flower—the one the lady’s wearing. One has a picture …of some kind of lion, on the weird guy with the crooked tooth. The last one is… on the chef.”

“What about the beanie?” Henry asks. 

Shawn frowns, shaking his head. “A beanie’s a cap, not a hat.”

“All right. Open your eyes,” Henry says, sounding pleased.

When Shawn complies, the waitress is standing next to their table. 

“Wow. That’s amazing,” she says sincerely, beaming at Shawn. He smiles back at her.

“It’s adequate,” Henry says; Shawn feels his smile fall as Henry turns to the waitress, nodding. “Get him his cake.”

“I guess I know what  _ you’re  _ going to be when you grow up,” the waitress tells Shawn, glancing from him to Henry’s uniform meaningfully.

"Oh," Shawn tells her politely, "I'm  _never_ gonna grow up, ma'am."

Gus rolls his eyes when Shawn recounts the conversation to him later. "That's ridiculous. Everyone has to grow up, Shawn."

"Nuh-uh," Shawn says stubbornly. "Twenty years from now, we're still gonna be watching tv together, spilling Cinnamon Toast Crunch down the back of the couch. Just you watch."

Gus just raises his eyebrows; Shawn chooses to take his lack of protest as silent acknowledgement of Shawn's miraculous powers of foresight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "the 13 ghosts of scooby doo" was a terrible, terrible tv show which deserves to be forgotten by history. shawn and gus would have _loved_ it. 
> 
> references:  
> http://www.inthe80s.com/saturdays.shtml  
> https://www.thedailymeal.com/eat/most-popular-breakfast-cereals-through-decades-slideshow/


	2. 2006 ...still santa barbara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You better not be calling in a tip right now, Shawn," Gus says breathily, grinding down into Shawn's lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a bit under-edited but if i don't post it tonight i probably never will. so... carpe diem i guess? feel free to comment with concrit, or hit me up on my tumblr \- i'm always on the hunt for beta readers!
> 
> all the dialog of the channel 8 report & shawn's tip-off call is taken directly from s1e1, "pilot". everything else comes straight from yours truly.

Adulthood might not be so bad after all, Shawn thinks hazily to himself. Then again, his opinion may be biased: he's just had an excellent nacho dinner, followed by an exhilarating motorcycle ride, and now he has his gorgeous husband pressed up against their apartment door, making out with him like their lives depend on it.

As Shawn unbuckles his motorcycle helmet and drops it blindly on the kitchen counter, Gus pulls away from his searching mouth to hiss, “I am _never_ letting you drive me around on that deathtrap again, Shawn." Shawn tunes him out in favor of pulling Gus’ helmet off of him, leaving his head and neck vulnerable to attack.

“Hush, near-death experiences breed character,” he says blithely. “And your car isn’t fast enough; I want a quickie before episode one starts.”

Gus makes a high, outraged noise in his throat. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to maintain an erection again, Shawn! My _life_ flashed before my eyes!”

“I don’t believe you,” Shawn tells him lowly, reaching a hand down to squeeze his husband’s crotch. As he’d suspected, Gus is rock-hard, staring wide-eyed at Shawn like he wants to do all manner of naughty, sadistic things to him.

Shawn wets his lip just to watch Gus’ eyes follow the swipe of his tongue. “Did you know,” he says lowly, sinking down onto the living-room couch, "that adrenaline can sometimes cause intense arousal?"

Gus lets out a breathless little nervous giggle as Shawn tugs him down after him. "Married to you? I doubt anyone could forget."

As he situates himself in Shawn's lap, one of Gus' knees lands on top of the TV remote, unintentionally turning on the Channel 8 news.

Shawn's eyes flick past Gus to the TV screen as his husband starts sucking a hickey into his throat.

A heavily made-up reporter in an eye-watering fuchsia blouse is interviewing a shaken-looking middle aged man. His hands twist together nervously as he listens to her, avoiding her gaze.

"...voicing her concerns regarding the department's long-time policies. Joe, do the police have any leads at this time?" 

The man shakes his head rapidly. "We're at a loss—we really don't know what else to do. It's been a tough few weeks. Basically, we're out of ideas. Hopefully the police will be able to crack this one for us."

He darts a brief, nervous glance into the camera before averting his eyes.

_Oh, come on,_ Shawn mouths incredulously at the screen. After barely a moment's thought, he slides sideways on the couch, lunging for the phone.

"You better not be calling in a tip right now, Shawn," Gus says breathily, grinding down into Shawn's lap. Shawn shoots him a shit-eating grin as he dials the phone one-handed.

A bored-sounding woman answers almost immediately. "Santa Barbara police department."

"It's the store manager. He did it."

"Pardon me?"

"Uh, the stereo robberies. At the Visions chain store." Gus grinds down particularly viciously, and it takes Shawn a second to refocus on the call. "He's on the Channel 8 news, right now. Um, his hands—nervous tic—dead giveaway. And he won't look at the reporter in the eyes."

"And your name is...?" the dispatcher drawls.

"My name? My name is Shawn. Spencer," he adds; an afterthought.

"And is there anything else today?"

"Nope, that's... gonna do it," Shawn rushes out, almost before she's done with the question.

As he speaks, the news changes to an outdoor shot: the same reporter standing outside the mall complex, flanked by a news van. Shawn scans the plates with a level of speed and practice that would make even Henry proud. 

"Actually, the tags on the news van have expired. But that's completely— _ah_ —unrelated," he manages to get out before Gus does something truly unfair with his tongue.

"You are gonna have to blow me for  _so_ long before I forgive you for that," Gus says indignantly once Shawn's hung up and tossed the phone to the floor. He's still clutching Shawn's ass like it holds the key to nirvana, though, so Shawn figures they're all good.

"Sounds like a plan; I'll hunt down the pineapple-flavored condoms."

Above him, Gus lets out a groan, halfway between exasperated and horny. It's one of Shawn's favorite ways to have him: hard, frustrated, and ready to teach Shawn a lesson. (The sexy kind, not the paternal, crime-solving kind.) 

"You're a demon," Gus says half-heartedly as Shawn rolls them over on the couch.

"Yup," Shawn says agreeably, in between sucking breathless little kisses into Gus' jawline. "Your own personal succubus. Now, c'mon—do you want to fuck me through the mattress before the Knight Rider marathon starts, or what?"

Gus hisses in animal satisfaction as Shawn pulls him up off the couch by his collar. 

"You know  _that's_ right."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> psych's s1 box art has a powerfully cursed energy - i was exposed to it multiple times over the course of researching for this chapter, and it haunts me. the things i do for fanfic.
> 
> (check it out if you don't believe me. i especially wish i could erase this picture of james roday from my mind; he looks like a fucking _goblin_ )


End file.
